


Pursuit of Happiness

by sixlettrsodapop



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bloodplay, Character Death, Dark, Knifeplay, M/M, Murder, Serial Killers, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixlettrsodapop/pseuds/sixlettrsodapop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They’ll paint it as a national tragedy, two stray wayward boys who only did what they had to to make it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pursuit of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Really, really dark. Just a major warning before you read.

Peter uses his body as a weapon, knows what he looks like when he bites his lower lip with sharp teeth and bats his eyes under long lashes, long legs to match crossed at the ankles, fingers wrapped around a dripping glass. He wraps his arms around Felix’s neck, glass resting cool against his back, and Felix is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, wings shuttering and snapping when Peter smiles and leans close, whispering about how much he wants to be _wrecked_ in Felix’s ear and ending it with teeth on Felix’s earlobe, breathing hot.

~

Felix’s first murder was when he was 16. Knocked his stepfather down the stairs when he got too close, watched his head crack against the bannister and blood trickle out slowly. He grins and walks to the kitchen, eats his dinner and waits until his mum gets home, until she screams before he runs.

~

He’s 21 when he meets Peter, already has a preferred method of killing, and the other boy has his hips pushed out at the bar and Felix aches to be the one to wreck him like the boy asks, hand itching to see him stretched out with Felix’s knife against his neck.

He knows the boy would bleed something pretty.

It’s all teeth and biting in the motel room, fingernails scraping down Felix’s back and Peter’s legs hitched around his hips. Felix shudders when he feels the blood on his back, his chest, his shoulder from Peter’s teeth and nails, grins at Peter’s bloodstained teeth and fingers when the other boy holds a knife to his neck. Seems Peter thinks he’d bleed pretty too.

“You know what they say. Birds of a feather flock together.” He rasps, feels the blade scrape against his Adam’s apple and Peter laughs, delighted and manic, a sweet sound in the racket of the city outside the door.

~

They steal a car, something small and inconspicuous after the dark-eyed boy dies in Felix’s arms, charmed by Peter’s bright eyes and sharp smiles and the police come, trace the blood trail that dripped from their boots to their motel and drive through the night, still riding the high of sex and adrenaline, blood drying on their hands and in their clothes. Peter’s feet are on the dash and he’s lying back, staring at Felix’s profile, features sharp from the moonlight and he grins.

“You’re going to break me, Felix.” He says and Felix chuckles.

~

A girl fights in one city, catching Felix off-guard and knocking his knife from his hand; Peter gets her, yanks her head back by her hair and slits her throat. His hands are sticky when they slide into Felix’s hair later when he’s sucking bruises onto Peter’s hips and Felix’s eyes are blown black when Peter tugs him up and slots their mouths together. Peter tastes like the blood he’d licked from his knife when they dashed into the room, shedding clothes before the door was fully closed and clashing together, and Felix moans, Peter swallowing the sound down.

~

Their first kill together was unplanned and sloppy. A big guy who’d taken Peter by surprise when he was smoking in the alley; the guy didn’t expect Peter to shove a knife under his ribcage with his cigarette still held in his mouth, puncture a lung and then kick him until he’d stopped breathing. Peter was shaking when he found Felix, something he’d not done in years, hands covered in blood and they’d run, left the city that night. Been on the road since, never staying more than a night in one place.

~

In one motel, Felix watches with hooded eyes as Peter kneels over him and licks a clean stripe up the side of Felix’s knife and shudders, smiles with bloodstained teeth before he wipes the knife against Felix’s bare stomach, draws his fingers through blood, draws a fucking sun in it and Felix drops back, groaning as Peter sinks down on his cock. The boy moans, head thrown back, Felix’s knife abandoned on the bed and he puts his hands on Felix’s chest, sticky.

Later, when Peter has bruises over his hips from Felix’s hands and they both have blood and come flaking off their skin, Felix drags his hand up Peter’s side and pulls the boy into his chest. He makes a noise of protest, but relaxes, nosing into Felix’s neck and biting at an already bruised patch of skin, making Felix hiss. He can feel Peter’s smile against his neck and noses into the boy’s hair, stiff with sweat and blood.

“Have I broke you yet?” He asks and Peter laughs, still just as delighted and manic as that first night.

“Not yet, Felix. Gonna have to work harder.”

~

Peter has blood on his teeth and Felix licks it from his mouth, grinning when the other boy moans and they’re in another city, a new city, the body of twins in some alley and they know they’re not gonna make it to the next city. They were too loud, too sloppy and they’ve been on the news, but they’re not going to leave without some protest too.

They killed the twins and scampered back to the motel, went a round with Peter’s back against the wall, gasping Felix’s name to the ceiling and his nails digging cuts into Felix’s shoulders that make the boy hiss. A shower where the water runs pink around them and Peter drags his fingers through the knots in Felix’s hair, smiling something soft and secret, something only for Felix and Felix slots their mouths together, relishing in the soft moan Peter pours out.

They both know they’re not gonna make it out of this alive.

Peter drags Felix from the shower and they’re still wet, soaking through the sheets as they kiss and slide together, Peter’s knees on either side of Felix’s hips and it’s the first time they’ve had sex with blood or knives and Felix watches as Peter rides him, stretched long and beautiful and Felix can’t keep his hands from Peter, has to touch him constantly to make sure he’s real.

~

It ends with them holding hands, sticky with blood; Peter grinning with his sharp teeth and Felix with a soft smile.

~

“Do you want to keep going or do you want to give up?” Peter asks, arms crossed behind his head and feet on the dash; Felix hums and shrugs. “I think it should be just us. No blaze of glory. Just us.”

Over the radio, there’s a national report about them, about everything they’ve done and Peter laughs, turning it up.

“They’re looking for us, Felix. How pissed do you think they’ll be if they find us together and dead? All this money wasted on trying to find us and we did their job for them.”

_Why do you think these murders are happening? What do you think these killers are trying to do?_

“Find the meaning of life. Pursuing happiness. The great American dream.”

Peter laughs and Felix chuckles, looking at the boy lying next to him. His sunglasses are pushed up on his forehead and he’s beautiful, flushed from the sun and he looks at Felix, grin bright.

~

They hold hands and kneel on the motel floor facing each other, knives in hand. Peter had written the note as Felix watched over his shoulder, smiling as Peter had admitted to everything, taunted the police about their inability to do their job, signed it with _We just wanted to have the American dream, freedom to do what we wanted_ , doesn’t leave their names and then they kissed, soft, no teeth.

Peter had grinned, manic when they sat down together, Felix’s soft and gentle and the police find them, entwined hands and sticky with blood, throats slit with their own knives.

~

“They’ll paint it as a national tragedy, two stray wayward boys who only did what they had to to make it,” Peter says, lying on the hood of the car and smoking, cigarette held between his pointer and middle fingers; he waves it and Felix snags it away, takes a drag before passing it back and Peter grins. “That’s what makes it great. That they won’t be able to believe we did it just because we wanted it, that we enjoyed it.”

Peter rolls onto his side and leans up on his arm, throws his cigarette on the ground and Felix crushes it under his boot.

“They won’t be able to believe we killed all those people because we liked it. That’s the best part.”

**Author's Note:**

> This turned into something I was not expecting. Um.
> 
> I really like this fic, though. I tried to not fluff it up or paint this as being okay. Because it's not.
> 
> I just hope that came through.


End file.
